


All these days that came and went

by elivigar



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Didn't think I'd enjoy writing Muke this much tbh, I had a really really good time writing this, I mean they don't get drunk but alcohol is mentioned, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elivigar/pseuds/elivigar
Summary: Not in his jeans. Not in his jacket. Frowning, he opens his bag and starts looking there, too, but no. Upon realising that he must have left them at work, an almost forty minute bus ride away, Luke closes his eyes and inhales deeply. That would be the end to this otherwise fan-fucking-tastic day.In which Luke and Michael live in the same building and they both manage to lock themselves out of their respective flats.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	All these days that came and went

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to Heath aka [tigerteeff](https://tigerteeff.tumblr.com), who asked for Muke based on the prompt, "You got locked out, too?" I had such a good time writing this, so apparently I like Muke, didn't think I did tbh, and I hope anyone who reads it enjoys it, too♥ [Come talk to me on tumblr if you wanna!](http://ashtcnirwin.tumblr.com)

A lovely combination of sweat and pouring rain has left Luke soaking wet.

Stumbling through the front door of his building, he pushes stray strands of dripping hair away from his forehead as he steps into the lift. He presses the button that’ll take him to his floor, and then he stands there and waits. The lift is an old and creaky one, and it’s so slow Luke reckons he might actually have become slightly dryer by the time it stops and the doors slide open.

Hoisting his bag further up on his shoulder, he makes his way to his front door and starts searching his pockets for his keys. Not in his jeans. Not in his jacket. Frowning, he opens his bag and starts looking there, too, but no. Upon realising that he must have left them at work, an almost forty minute bus ride away, Luke closes his eyes and inhales deeply. That would be the end to this otherwise fan-fucking-tastic day. 

Not for the first time in his life, or even this month if he’s being completely truthful, he wonders why it is that a tragedy rarely comes alone. Referring to forgetting his keys at work as a tragedy might be a little dramatic, but as he slumps against the wall and slides to the floor, he decides he can’t be arsed to care.

He knows he’s gonna have to go back to work to fetch his keys unless he wants to sleep in the hallway tonight, but for the time being, he prefers to stay right where he is. And if anyone was to see him, they would probably think to themselves that, ‘ _Oh, he looks pathetic’_ , because he’s wet, he’s tired and miserable, his too long legs are splayed out on the floor, and his entire month has been one solid beating after the other.

Closing his eyes, Luke does his very best to focus on everything but the shitshow that’s currently his life. The only good thing that can be said about it is that he’s doing well at work. So well, in fact, that his boss has been hinting that he might be getting a promotion by the end of the summer. He doesn’t really care, to be quite honest.

“Are you dying or does it just look like you are?”

Luke opens his eyes and blinks a couple of times in an attempt to put the person standing in front of him into focus. He tripped and broke his glasses four days ago, and his new ones haven’t arrived yet, so his vision is somewhat blurry. Despite that, he recognises the figure peering down at him as the rather handsome guy who lives a few doors down the hall.

“A bit of both,” Luke says. “I probably look worse than I actually am.” Probably. Maybe.

“You sure? You look pretty fucking downtrodden,” the guy says. Bending over slightly, he holds out a hand. “Don’t think we’ve ever said a proper hello. I’m Michael, flat 407.”

“I’ve seen you around,” Luke says as he shakes Michael’s hand briefly. “I’m Luke, and… I live here.”

Michael’s eyes flicker to Luke’s front door for a moment before focusing on Luke again. “Any reason you’re sitting on the floor outside your flat, or…?”

“There’s a nasty ghost in there and I’d rather not face it right now.”

“Understandable.”

Smiling weakly, Luke hauls himself up in a standing position. “No, I forgot my keys at work, so I’ve effectively locked myself out of my own home.”

“And going back to work to fetch your keys never occurred to you?”

“Ah, now there’s a radical idea,” Luke says, snorting.

“I’m just full of those. No, but really, why don’t you go fetch them?”

“Because it takes me about forty minutes to get there and I’m tired and I’m wet and… I don’t wanna.”

“Forty minutes?” Michael asks, eyes widening. “Where the hell do you work?”

“No, I- it’s not that far, not really, but I don’t drive and the buses out there are a bit of a pain and it’s a pretty long walk from the bus stop and… yeah.”

Michael hums. “How far is it? By car, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Luke says with a half-hearted shrug. The wetness of his clothes is starting to seep into his skin, and he has to suppress a shiver. “Fifteen minutes maybe.”

“Not that far,” Michael remarks. Luke’s about to make a snarky comment about how it hardly matters how far it is by car when he doesn’t fucking drive, when Michael continues. “I can drive you, if you want.”

Luke blinks. “You- what? Really? Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m a good samaritan?” Michael says with a crooked smile. When Luke merely raises a sceptical eyebrow, he shakes his head. “Believe it or not, I got myself locked out, too. Broke my key when I tried to unlock the door, so I don’t really have anywhere to be or go right now. Not until I get a locksmith over to fix the problem, which could take a while, apparently.”

It’s almost hilarious, Luke thinks, how two people in the same building, on the same floor, manage to get themselves locked out of their flats on the same afternoon. Almost cosmic in its hilarity, as a matter of fact.

“Well, I mean… if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it,” he says, somewhat hesitant. “Do you want something in return?”

“A spot on your couch and a glass of water or a cup of coffee while I wait for the locksmith wouldn’t hurt, but it’s not a requirement.”

“I could probably make that sacrifice,” Luke says, smiling weakly as he nods.

“Okay, cool, let’s go, then.”

The drive takes less than fifteen minutes, as it turns out. Luke shivers the entire way as his clothes get colder and colder, and his skin feels sticky and his hair is absolutely disgusting, and as he exits his office, key chain in hand, he thinks longingly about the long, steaming shower he’s gonna take the second he gets home. As if having read Luke’s mind at some point, Michael has cranked up the heat in the car by the time Luke slides into the passenger seat and fastens his seat belt.

“Thanks,” he says as Michael steers out of the parking lot and onto the road.

“Hm?”

“The… the heat,” Luke says, clearing his throat. “Pretty sure my muscles were about to vibrate themselves out of my body, so… thanks.”

“Didn’t quite fancy the idea of having you catch pneumonia while I’m chilling on your couch, so it’s pretty self-serving, really,” Michael says. When Luke turns his head to look at him, he’s got a gentle smile on his face, though his eyes are directed at the road. It’s a nice smile, Luke thinks.

While generally severely overjoyed at coming home after a day at work, Luke can’t recall ever having been quite _this_ happy when he slides the key into the keyhole and turns in, unlocking his front door with a lovely click. The air inside is warm and dry, and Luke wastes no time in kicking off his shoes and tossing his damp denim jacket on the floor. He’ll pick it up later, perhaps.

“Come in,” he tells Michael over his shoulder as he starts walking towards the living room. “I’m just gonna go take a shower before I actually get pneumonia, but make yourself at home. Glasses are in the cupboards above the sink, think I’ve got some Cokes and a few beers in the fridge, might be some lasagna leftovers if you’re hungry. Tea and coffee in the drawer underneath the coffee maker, if you want that.”

“Gracious host,” Michael says as he follows in Luke’s footsteps.

“Oh, yeah, making you find your own drinks and food is proper gracious of me,” Luke laughs. He stops outside the bathroom door and looks at Michael. “I’ve got a Chromecast and Netflix on the TV, WiFi password’s on a Post-It on the fridge, so… yeah, just make yourself at home and I’ll be right out.”

Michael smiles, and it’s a soft smile. Kind. Comfortable. “Okay, thanks.”

Luke’s heart does a funny little thing, speeding up its rate for a moment, then settling back to its regular one. Breaking eye-contact with Michael, he opens the bathroom door and slides inside, closing and locking it behind himself. It takes a hot minute or two to peel himself out of his jeans and jumper, and the five or so seconds it takes for the water to heat up has his entire, naked body covered in goosebumps. The feeling of the warm water cascading over him is nothing short of orgasmic, though, and he groans as he drops his head forward. For ten minutes or so, he just stands there, waiting for every single atom in his body to heat up properly before he makes quick work of washing everything that needs washing.

Long ago, Luke made a habit of keeping a few pieces of comfortable clothing in one of the cupboards in his bathroom. As he’s now stark naked, fresh out of the shower, with a virtual stranger only a few metres away on the other side of the door, he’s quite grateful for having once made that choice. Slipping into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, a thin, navy blue jumper and a pair of socks, he unlocks the door and steps out into the living room.

Michael has made himself comfortable on the L-shaped couch, stretched out on almost the entire length of one side of it, a glass of wine in one hand and his phone in the other. The TV is displaying a music video of a band Luke has no knowledge about.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Michael says as he raises his wine glass. “I’ve never been much for beer and you had this opened bottle just standing on the counter, and I know enough about wine to know that it wasn’t an expensive or rare one, so I took a chance.”

Luke throws a quick glance at the glass, then shakes his head as he sits down by Michael’s feet. “No, it’s alright,” he says. “A friend left it here a few days ago, I don’t really drink wine myself, so… have at it.”

“Want me to fetch you a beer?” Michael asks.

“You’re the guest here, remember?” Luke says. “I think I’m supposed to offer to bring you stuff, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, but I’m hanging out on your couch and you look like you’ve had a crappy day or fifty, so…”

“Thanks,” Luke says soberly.

Michael blows a breath through his nose, rolling his eyes as he drags himself to his feet. “I’m getting you a beer.” He disappears out of sight into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with an opened beer bottle in hand. Sitting back down on the couch, he hands the beer to Luke and says, “Drink.”

“Oh, okay, Dr. Phil, if you say so,” Luke says before he takes a large gulp of the beer.

Michael smiles. “There you go. Better?”

“Sure, if you say so.”

They sit in silence for a while while the music plays on in the background. Luke finishes his beer, and when he gets up to fetch himself another one, Michael holds out his empty wine glass, a wide smile plastered on his face as he does. Rolling his eyes, Luke takes the glass before he heads to the kitchen. As he pours a solid chunk of wine into the glass, he can’t help but smile to himself. It feels like an odd situation, the one’s he’s currently in, but he can’t say he minds it much.

Upon returning to the living room, Luke hands Michael the glass and responds to the quiet, “Thanks,” with a smile. For a bit, they continue to sit in silence, and Luke finds it odd that it’s not uncomfortable. He can’t remember the last time he sat in comfortable silence with someone he didn’t know.

“So… can I ask you a question?” Michael asks as one song ends and another one begins.

“My favourite colour is blue.”

“Good to know,” Michael says. “No, I was just wondering about the girl who used to walk in and out of here all the time.”

Eyeing Michael with surprise, Luke asks, “My ex? She moved out… what, seven months ago now.”

“Ah, the answer I was looking for,” Michael says with a curt laugh. “Didn’t wanna ask you straight out if it was a girlfriend or a friend or a sister, so thanks for doing the work for me.”

“Hm, yeah.” Taking a swig of his beer, Luke clears his throat. He’s not entirely sure what possesses him to elaborate on the matter, but he does nonetheless. “We were together for four years, lived together here for two and a half of them, then things stopped working between us, so she moved out since I own the flat, and… now here we are.”

“And now here we are,” Michael repeats. “Probably wouldn’t have been here if she was still living here, would we?”

“Probably not,” Luke agrees, because it’s true; if she was still living here, she would have been home to let him in, and the problem would have been solved.

“Don’t think I’ve been in a proper relationship myself since I was… I don’t know, twenty-two?” Michael says with a pensive frown etched between his eyebrows. “And I’m twenty-five now, so that’s three years without a relationship.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” Michael says easily. “I’m fine being single. I miss parts of being in a relationship, but it’s usually alright.”

“Who… or, what happened to your last relationship?” Luke asks, for God knows what reason; is he even allowed to ask someone he barely knows questions like that?

Michael doesn’t seem to mind, though. He has a sip of wine, then lowers the glass and sucks in his bottom lip as his eyes seem to focus on nothing in particular. “Dunno,” he says after a beat. “Guess we just grew apart, you know? We met when we were nineteen and were friends for a few months before we started dating, and everything was good for a while, but then it wasn’t anymore. Not sure exactly what happened, but it didn’t work.”

“Sounds familiar,” Luke says.

“Yeah?”

“Pretty much the story of me and the ex. We just grew apart, it wasn’t working anymore, it was nobody’s fault, but it was over long before we actually called it quits and… yeah.”

“Yeah.” Nodding, seemingly more to himself than to Luke, Michael drinks more wine. “Kinda blows, doesn’t it? You put all this time and energy into a relationship, and then it turns out to be work for nothing in the end.”

“Not for nothing, I don’t think,” Luke says. “You learn from it, learn from your mistakes, and learn how to cope with people functioning in a different way than yourself. Pretty valuable if you ask me.”

Michael blows a raspberry. “That’s too damn wise of you to say with only one and a half beer in your system.”

“That’s me; Mr. Wise,” Luke says and holds up his beer in a silent toast.

“Kinky,” Michael remarks. “That what you ask your partners to call you in bed?”

“Oh, yeah, all the time,” Luke says. “Not that it always goes over well, but that’s a different conversation.”

Michael looks positively delighted at that. He drinks a little more wine and the room falls into silence, save for the music playing in the background. Luke finds himself simply taking Michael in. He has a lovely face, Luke thinks; eyes bright and alert, yet relaxed, full lips, messy hair falling in every direction around his jaw and forehead. 

“Are you checking me out?” Michael asks, effectively pulling Luke back to reality.

“No, no, I just…” Luke trails off, biting his lip. On a whim, and because he figures he doesn’t have much to lose, he says, “Would it be bad if I was?” The moment the words are out of his mouth, he realises that he does, in fact, have something to lose. He doesn’t know if Michael’s even into guys, and even if he is, it’s not a given that he finds Luke attractive, and one thing Luke doesn’t need in his life right now is a neighbour to have occasional awkward encounters with in the hallway.

“No,” Michael says, shifting a little closer to Luke. “A little surprising, but not bad.”

Mimicking Michael, Luke moves a couple of inches closer until their thighs are pressed up against one another. His heart’s beating a little faster than usual; partly because of nerves, because he can’t remember the last time he made an active effort to flirt, and partly because of excitement. “Why surprising?” he asks.

“Figured you were straight, since you mentioned an ex- _girl_ friend.”

“Good thing there’s something called being bi.”

Raising his hand, Michael places it flat on Luke’s chest, then drags his fingers slowly up and down a couple of times before letting it come to a halt over his diaphragm. “Good thing, yeah,” he says.

Luke’s not entirely sure where their little interaction is going, but he realises that he really wishes for it to go _somewhere_. It’s been seven months since he last kissed someone and probably closer to a year since he got laid in any shape or form. When he’s now sitting in close proximity to a good-looking guy who he strictly speaking doesn’t really know, but who he already likes, he feels all those lonely nights in his bones, and he aches with the want to be physically close to another human being again.

Putting his wineglass on the coffee table, Michael carefully pries Luke’s beer out of his hand and puts that too on the table. Luke doesn’t protest. For a second, Luke feels disappointment fill his stomach when Michael sits back against the couch in the corner, legs stretched out. But then Michael smiles, and Luke takes it as an invitation. A little awkwardly, he climbs into Michael’s lap, straddling his thighs with his knees framing Michael’s hips. His heart is beating rapidly, ever so faithful, as he steadies his hands on Michael’s chest.

“Can’t remember the last time I had any sort of… intimate encounter starting like this,” he says with a breath of laughter.

“What, with you getting locked out of your flat and your neighbour doing the same?” Michael asks as he holds a firm grip on Luke’s waist, pulling slightly to encourage him to come closer. “Gotta agree with you there, can’t remember the last time I had that happen either.”

“Not exactly what I meant, but sure, let’s go with that,” Luke says. He’s sitting close enough to Michael now that his crotch is pressed up against the latter’s stomach, and he’s vaguely embarrassed that something as simple as that has his cock starting to harden.

When he feels Michael’s nose brush against his jaw, he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. He leans into the contact, shifting his hips a little, and he feels something decidedly hard rubbing against his ass, and it feels far more delicious than it has any right to. A soft moan escapes through his parted lips, and Michael’s fingers dig into the soft flesh on his waist while his hips rock gently upwards, just once.

With an intense hope that their encounter goes a little bit further than kissing, Luke turns his head just the slightest bit, so that his lips brush against Michael’s. When Michael slips his hands underneath Luke’s jumper and pushes it a few inches up, Luke lets out another quiet moan before he surges forward and presses his lips hard against Michael’s.

There’s nothing soft or gentle about anything after that. The kiss is wet and sloppy and filthy, and Luke’s too preoccupied focusing on not coming in his pants to care about finesse at all, and Michael doesn’t seem to mind as he meets all of Luke’s licks, bites and grinds with enthusiasm. They remain where they are as Michael eventually slips a hand into Luke’s trousers, groaning low in his throat upon realising that Luke isn’t wearing any underwear, and starts jerking him off with quick, practised movements. Luke slumps against him, burying his face in Michael’s neck as he alternates between panting, moaning and latching onto the soft skin with his lips and teeth.

It’s over too quickly. No more than a couple of minutes after Michael got a hand on him, Luke’s stomach clenches, and then he’s coming with a string of, “Shit, shit, shit…” and a loud moan that had he not been too far gone, he would have been embarrassed by. He lifts his head and re-connects his lips with Michael’s as he rides out his orgasm, and a droplet of sweat rolls down the side of his face.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles after Michael’s pulled his hand out and wiped it off on his own jumper. “That was… embarrassing. I usually last longer, promise.”

“Been a while?” Michael asks, and Luke’s surprised to hear that he sounds downright wrecked.

“Hm, yeah,” Luke says. Pressing another kiss to Michael’s lips, he scoots backwards a few inches and reaches for the button on Michael’s jeans. He’s only just started working on getting it open when Michael grabs a careful hold of his wrists to stop him, though.

“I already… yeah,” Michael says with a weak chuckle. “You’re not the only one whose stamina decided to short-circuit.”

Luke blinks, then smiles. “For real? I didn’t even touch you.”

“Dunno if you noticed, but you kept grinding down on me with that pretty fucking lovely ass of yours,” Michael says with a shrug and, as if to illustrate, gives Luke’s ass a gentle slap. “And you make some really hot noises when you’re turned on as well.”

Luke can feel his face heat up ever so slightly. “Like I said, it’s been a while,” he says. “It felt… good. Really good. You have nice hands.”

“You have nice everything,” Michael says.

“That was terrible. So cheesy,” Luke says, though he’s smiling because he can’t help it. Michael shrugs again. “So… do you wanna borrow something to wear? Your jeans are gonna become real disgusting in a couple of minutes and your jumper’s already disgusting.”

“No, that’s alright,” Michael says. “I should be getting home.”

“Huh?” Tilting his head to the side, Luke quirks an eyebrow. “Ah, right. You were never locked out, were you? Just a lie you told to get in your neighbour’s pants.”

Michael laughs. “You got me. No, the locksmith called when you were in the kitchen earlier. He had a cancellation and told me he’d be here by six thirty, which is…” He trails off and throws a glance at the clock on the wall. “In about three minutes.”

“Oh, right,” Luke says. 

They look at each other for a moment, then Luke starts climbing off Michael. His legs feel a little wobbly, but he remains standing as he watches Michael get up as well. A bark of laughter tumbles out of his mouth when he notices how dishevelled Michael looks, with semi-dried cum on his jumper, hair sticking in every direction imaginable, cheeks flushed and, if he squints, a wet patch on the front of his jeans.

“Nice look,” he says. “You’re probably gonna scar that poor locksmith.”

“Locksmith’s just gonna have to deal with it,” Michael says as he starts walking towards the entrance hall.

Following right behind, Luke stops in the doorway and leans his shoulder against the frame as he watches Michael slip his shoes on. A feeling of unease has settled in Luke’s chest, and when Michael reaches for his jacket, he clears his throat. “Not to, like, make things awkward or make myself look like an idiot,” he starts, a little hesitantly, “and I’m not expecting anything or whatever, so just be honest, but… was this a one time-thing or…?”

Michael doesn’t respond at once. Shrugging his jacket on and straightening the sleeves, he regards Luke. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to see you again,” he says.

A silly amount of relief fills Luke at that, and he smiles and nods. “Yeah, that’s alright,” he says. “I’d like that, too.”

“Yeah?” Michael says, and he actually looks surprised. “That’s… didn’t expect that. But okay, cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, guess I’ll see you, then,” Michael says and offers Luke a smile before he turns around and opens the door. As he takes a step through it, he stills for a moment, then turns back around, hand still on the door handle. “I’m putting myself at risk of coming on a little too strong now, but… if you don’t have plans, do you wanna come over later? We could watch a movie and I’ll cook us dinner.”

As if on cue, Luke’s stomach lets out a growl, and he grimaces.

“Sexy,” Michael laughs. “Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, I- yeah,” Luke says with a smile and a nod. “That’s a yes. Dinner and a movie sounds nice.”

“How modern of us, starting with sex and ending with dinner,” Michael says, but his smile is wider than ever as he looks at Luke. “I’ll just come knocking when dinner’s ready. It might be a while, dunno if I have anything to cook, so I might have to go to the store and I definitely need a shower, so-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be here,” Luke cuts in. “I’m not in a rush. Saturday tomorrow and all.”

“Oh, yeah, it is.” With a final smile, Michael says, “I’ll see you later, then,” and then he’s out the door and Luke is left standing in his entrance hall alone, with a stupid smile on his face and a swarm of butterflies inhabiting his belly.

If he’d known that forgetting his keys would result in kisses, a handjob and a date, he might have considered locking himself out sooner.


End file.
